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As things slowly get back to ‘normal’ the goblin returns to this blog too. I’ve found him willing to let me use whatever he writes on my blog and I shall take him up on that one. So here’s to new beginnings and musings by a live writer I know as Fleamailman or The Goblin.

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to the goblin there was only one score that mattered, that of have I caught it with my pen then, in fact, it was just his way of fishing for thoughts, and as if to underline it, the late bistro played good music to a full house of lively chatting drinkers, while one lone figure sat in the corner typing away, looking up and then typing away again before finally posting something to forumland, so simply either the goblin was “there albeit mentally detached from his dailylife” or “here on forumland albeit still attached that dailylife of his”, something he called a shared life, though most people would call it a writer’s distraction then, or worse, simply daydreaming now

I have been tagged for this blog hop. It’s not the kind of questions I am used to ask myself, or others, or that I’m comfortable answering, but here goes nothing.

What am I working on?

Ah, now that I can tell you. I’m working on the final once-over of The Power of Three, my new book. A novel this time. Paranormal, romance, crime with a splash of erotica, unless I take the full on sex scenes out and replace them with closed door sex, making the novel more main stream.

How does my work differ from others of its genre?

I don’t even know if it does. I will let that one be answered by the readers.

Why do I write what I do?

To be honest, I have no idea. I just get an idea and get on with it. Sometimes it’s erotic, then fairy tales, horror, sci-fi, or paranormal, but whatever the genre, someone dies. So maybe I’m one sick puppy?
How does your writing process work?

Is there a method to this madness? I mean, I have no writing process. I get an idea and start to write, let the story tell itself. Only after the first draft I distill what is worth keeping from the sludge and maybe end up with something that could become a story worth working on.

That’s about all I can tell about my writing process. Now, it was the idea that I would tag other bloggers/authors with a blog, and I did, but none of them replied, or had the time, and to be honest, I got a bit very busy and forgot to try and et a few more, so I’m afraid the hop ends here.

the idea perhaps was “wearing the specs of the site”, but it wasn’t so much that the goblin compromised, or changed himself to fit into style of the site so much as the site itself changed him and his view of his posting to it, “…simply, I slowly become more like those sites that I am active on, that’s all…”, where the opposite would be some insensitive troll who never changed under the forum/venue, concluding “…so wearing the specs is an important consideration in choosing one’s forum/venue then…”

Yet another Monday and again I’ve found a post by the Goblin on The Writer’s Beat. This time it’s all about writing.

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and with that the goblin just explained it, saying”…this thread is a book of sorts, and yes there are millions of real books out there, and almost every one of them was better than this one, but they all had one thing in common, they were all dead and published whereas here, where one is both reader and writer now, posters just get woven into these pages…”, the goblin then smiled looking at the slot again, “…take that journey to self goblin, while you still can that is…” it seemed to be saying each time, adding “…goblin, dailylife and that moneygod will just leave you feeling empty and cheap, so who are you really then, don’t you want to know who you are by what you post, so make each post count now, write in the post itself, and become a livewriter while there’s still time…”

(#113)

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What do you think? Does your true self shines through your written words?

Today best-selling author Martin Crosbie is the guest blogger and he starts with a question, but then explains. I suggest you read it and look up the answer to his question.

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The first reader who can tell me where the above semi-well-known phrase is from will receive their choice of one of my e-books.

I live with noises and voices in my head all the time. And, if you’re a writer you probably do too. It’s part of the deal. I’m currently writing two books at the same time. I’ve tried to do this previously and one has always fallen by the wayside. This time it seems to be working though. When I get stuck with the story in one book I switch to the other. One story is a light, romantic tale that takes place on a tropical island and there’s lots of laughter and occasional frolicking. The other is darker. It’s the third book in a trilogy so it has to honor its predecessors by maintaining the personalities of the characters who have been carried over into the final book. And it gets really confusing. I wrote the first book three years ago and the majority of the characters that I’m bringing back weren’t in book two so I need to get to know them again. And, sometimes I can only take so much. When that happens I switch to my light, romantic tale on Valentine Island and spend some time with the characters that don’t require quite as much of my attention.

I heard a very successful author say one time that he lit some candles and invited his characters into the room each time he began writing. I’ve never needed the candles. They’re there, almost all the time. Driving is bad. Even if there’s someone else in the vehicle I can still think about my story and what’s currently happening in it and what’s going to potentially happen next. I can be smiling and listening to a conversation but I’m not really there. I’m on the tropical island or dealing with complex relationship issues or trying to figure out if I’m really going to put a ghost in the house. I’ve even had someone share an anecdote with me and I’ve caught myself just as I was about to relate a similar incident that happened to Malcolm or Heather or Stephen from one of my novels. It’s been very close a couple of times.

And, if I’m on my own it’s even worse. From time to time my mouth will move as I talk my way through part of my plot and occasionally I’ll even smile in satisfaction when I manage to pull some loose ends together. That’s me congratulating myself. I remember as a teenager sitting with my buddies in a fast food restaurant and watching in amazement as a man spoke to his own reflection in the glass windows. Now I know why. He was a writer.

Today, I do those same things and I’ve developed a way of dealing with anyone who notices. I’m sure karma has a group of rambunctious teenage boys lurking somewhere in my future, waiting to mock me. And, I know there have been drivers in cars beside me wondering why I’m muttering. Well, I deal with it this way. I don’t care. I don’t respond or acknowledge. I keep working out my story in my head, mumbling and muttering as needed. I’ve always enjoyed being a little bit different, and being a writer has allowed me to adopt eccentricities that most people would find strange or weird. So go ahead, stare all you want. I’m a writer and I don’t care. It’s just the normal noises in here.